Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Lessons	By : Scold Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 2912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Lessons
- 2-Lessons Learnt
- 1
- 2
S: I finally finished this fic, it took awhile, but I hope I can make up for it with all the smut ^_^0
Enjoy!
xLessonsxLessonsxLessonsxLessonsxLessonsxLessonsxLessonsxLessonsx
Chapter 2 ~ Lessons Learnt
It was with trepidation that Jonathan Salt, a man known for getting his way, shut the taxi door behind him and paid the driver, and turned to face the looming factory. He felt his face flush with remembered embarrassment as he regarded the shut gates. The last time he had seen them he had sworn to himself never to return, but now here he was for some unknown reason, reliving his embarrassment.
That wasn’t true, he knew why he was here. That childish man who had ingeniously played out his role as teacher as he watched from the sidelines as each contestant, each pupil failed the test and learnt their lesson. He hadn’t even forced them to participate, only gauging each of their motivations and weaknesses and playing themselves off one another, off themselves.
Wonka, simply put, was a genius.
And he had been as foolish as every one of them, perhaps even more so. Not only had he failed the test with his daughter, but he had failed the test that Wonka had given him personally.
The soft snow that had been falling since he had arrived, different from the weather he had left at home, added yet another layer to the snow at his feet. The gates stood shut and looked like the were not going to open anytime soon and Jonathan found himself wondering if this had been another test, another lesson he had failed.
Had he been too eager to return? To want to please the eccentric man?
“I’m glad to see you could make it.” The childish almost feminine voice full of laughter caught his attention away from the tall gates. He turned to regard a walking bundle of fur coats topped off with a top hat.
“Mr Wonka.” He nodded cordially and the younger man extended his hand. Instead of shaking it like he thought he would, the younger tugged on it, turning and leading him down an alley beside his factory.
“This way! We want to get in from the cold so we can talk in comfort.” They stopped beside a wall that Wonka tapped a few times before seeming to find what he was looking for and opened a small door. Amazed Jonathan was pulled through the door which slid shut behind him. Before he could say anything he was once more pulled forward and up an ancient flight of narrow, stone stairs.
“Where are we going Mr Wonka?” He managed to puff after they had been climbing for awhile, the other man had discarded his fur coat at the bottom of the stairs and when he turned to face Salt in the narrow stairwell the older man could see the pale face. The high cheek bones carried a flush, from the cold, the exertion or the sudden closeness were their ragged breath seemed almost one, Jonathan wasn’t sure. The violet eyes glittered in the half-light and the thin red lips were slightly parted. He wanted, needed to…
Control, discipline, his lesson. He wasn’t here to get what he wanted… was he? The gloved hand was still in his, the leather of both gloves now warm with their shared heat. He had the sudden urge to take of his glove and feel the other man’s skin, the smoothness of his flushed cheeks.
Wonka seemed to have trouble swallowing, but he managed to clear his throat with a weak cough and a nervous giggle that the elder man wanted to hear again.
“To our room, my room, my room. The uh lounge room.” He coughed and whipped back around tugging at Jonathans hand as they started a fast climb as if Wonka was trying to outrun his awkwardness and embarrassment at his mistake.
Jonathan found the blunder to be very revealing about the young man in front of him, and the fact he hadn’t let go of his hand yet. So maybe there was hope, and not just another lesson learnt.
The stairs suddenly leveled out and they had come to a small room with multiple doors, quickly slipping into one and along a blank metallic hallway, a huge contrast to the previous ancient stairs.
“Here we are!” They came to another door which opened out into a comfortable sized room, nowhere near the size of the rooms in his mansion, but large enough to be spacious, but small enough so that one wouldn’t seem lost. His favorite kind of size, he never was one for the larger rooms, taking comfort in the smaller size.
He was pulled over to a dark red velvet couch that sunk under his and Wonka’s weight, on the small coffee table before them was a few open books and a pot of tea and mugs. The younger man seemed to fold in on himself as he sat almost curled up on the other end of the sofa. There had been room for two to sit comfortably side by side, but the way Wonka had almost retreated to his corner left plenty of room between them.
“Tea?” The young man offered after an awkward moment of silence in which the two had regarded each other.
“Thank you.” He had reached for his cup the same time Wonka had and they had brushed hands, Wonka drawing back suddenly as if burnt before bursting into giggles.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” He had his knees drawn back up and was peering out from under the rim of his hat. “It tingles.” He smiled a small embarrassed smile and blushed.
It had only just occurred to Jonathan with those small words that the young, eccentric, ingenious man sitting before him… had no idea what he was doing. He hadn’t realized that perhaps there had been truth behind those stories, that the young man had only ever been fascinated with his chocolate and had never ventured out of his factory once it had closed.
The younger man would not have been exposed to the outside world, would never have socialized, experimented, understood the subtle signs and symbols behind body language.
In fact those touches from the other day, the looks and the tone of voice and words he had used… they probably hadn’t been entirely intentional on a conscious level.
“How about I pour the tea?” He smiled in an effort to make the other man more comfortable with his presence. Now that he knew a little better the ground that the younger man was on he would be able to play this game in his own favour. Perhaps he could become the teacher, but not sit so submissively on the sidelines as Wonka had. He smirked inwardly, he was more of a hands on, practical experience kind of man.
He handed the teacup over to the curled up man.
“Thank you.”
“Tell me Mr Wonka.” He started but the other shook his head.
“Call me Will?” It was more of a question, as if asking for permission. The young man really hadn’t spoken to many people. Jonathan had found the man intriguing to begin with but now, with this new knowledge, this new innocence the younger was intoxicating.
“Will then, what is it that you needed to see me for.” He almost purred the word needed and saw that Wonka blushed at its implications.
“I… uh.” The younger man coughed to clear his throat. “Nuts.” He started, nodding as if confirming his own thoughts. “Your nuts.” A look of horror flashed over Wonka’s face and he sputtered.
Jonathan could only stare in amusement as the man worked himself up trying to undo the mess he had started.
“Er, I mean your company of nuts, not that its run by nuts, no, neither do you employ nuts to work, but er… ah, I seem to have lost my train of thought.” The man took a large swig of tea and ended up choking on it. Settling only after Jonathan had thumped him on the back, stroking it soothingly as the man tried to catch his breath.
“There there. I knew what you meant.” The other whispered, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice, his hand still rubbing circles over the bent back of the other man. He could feel his warmth along his thigh which was pressed firmly against Wonka’s and it sent a shiver down his spine.
The other man hadn’t even noticed their closeness, the opportunity Jonathan had seized as they were almost sitting on one another. Wonka turned and smiled shyly at him from under his eyelashes and tentatively pressed in closer, their breaths mingling. Or maybe he had.
“I’m glad you did.” Wonka paused and looked away, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. “Because I don’t think I really I knew what I meant.” He almost jumped, skittish, as Jonathan tipped off his hat running a hand through the chin length hair. The violet eyes closed and the younger man leant into the hand as if starved of contact. Which Jonathan supposed he was.
He shifted and the violet eyes shot open and the head jerked away from his hand. Confusion flickered in their depths. Fear and curiosity shadowed by the large pupils and lowered lashes.
“Shh, just relax.” Johnathan held out his hands, palms up in a sign of peace as he kept his voice soft and almost crooning.
“Can… can I call you John?” The whisper almost lost, Jonathan caught it and smiled.
“Sure love.” The other man relaxed a little letting the tension flow from him when John ran a thumb across his high cheek bone cupping his face, letting his thumb run over the thin lips which were surprisingly soft and warm. But he didn’t close his eyes again, watching John’s face intently as he let his tongue slide out and brush across the offered thumb. Jonathan could hardly keep his distance when the other sucked his digit in, letting his tongue run over it, teeth running softly over the sensitive pad.
The smile he offered Wonka was accepted and he drew his thumb away, as he replaced it with his lips. It was soft at first, light and warm before Wonka gripped his jacket front almost desperately. The younger had gasped when John had licked the others lips, and soon the kiss had turned wet, hard and hot. It felt to John as if Wonka was attempting to swallow him.
He pulled back turning the whimper of disappointment into a groan as he worked his way along the others jaw line. His hands which had been preoccupied with trying to find a way through the many layers of Wonka’s clothing found themselves unpinning the elaborate W and pulling the scarf away to reveal a slender pale throat, which he attacked with relish.
His hands had found a way to undo the buttons clumsily, but it didn’t matter as the fabric was removed and more of the pale skin was revealed. God the man tasted divine.
The younger gurgled, arching up against him as he found himself crawling over the top of the now reclining Wonka, he must of pushed the other man down while buried somewhere in the warm, hot mouth. The friction was beautiful but John found himself pulling away, both to his own and the younger man’s disappointment.
“Bed.” It was almost an order, apart from the need in his voice and the trembling in his hands. Wonka only whined, but clambered up, when John had pried himself from his immediate presence, the grace that Jonathan had admired was hindered by the obvious tightening of his pants, but the beauty was still there.
In fact it was highlighted by the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and darkened almost indigo coloured eyes that looked up at him from under long lashes. The other flushed brighter under his gaze, pulling the lapels of his open shirt shut to cover the ivory skin. John frowned taking hold of the hands, letting the shirt fall open as he kissed the collar bone.
“Beautiful.” He murmured and felt the other man swallow under his lips as they moved up his neck to capture the lips.
“Bed.” Wonka nodded before John was directed towards a plain wooden door which opened up into a rather plain room. However John didn’t really notice anything other then the large bed that sat in the centre of the room.
It didn’t take them long to get back to where they had left off, however on the way to the bed they had managed to stumble still grasping each other, while kicking off shoes. John found himself minus a coat and a half unbuttoned shirt when he stumbled, landing on the bed Wonka pulled down on top of him.
There was a long pause in which Wonka stared down at him and he returned the stare, the silence broken only by their panting breaths. The slightly swollen lips were pulled into a shy smile.
“Wow.”
Jonathan could only smile in return, it broadened when the other man ran a hand down his chest stopping at the half opened buttons. Each was undone slowly and systematically, and when John tried to help, his hand was pushed away. He knew Wonka needed this so he lay back trying not to let the feather light touches drive him crazy.
“John.” His name was breathed out against his skin as a tongue ran up his chest, as perfect nails were drawn down in the opposite direction. He arched letting out a muffled groan. He wasn’t often vocal, which was another reason Wonka fascinated him with the slight whimpers and panted moans he had produced out of the man on the coach.
It was hard to think, but he didn’t want to overdo this young man’s first experience, especially as he was so innocent. However that thought became a little doubtful when Wonka lowered his head, letting his tongue dip into his bellybutton, working together which his fingers playing through his chest hair and hardened nipples. He arched, mouth open, panting.
The head bobbed up, the thin lips pulled into a wide smile.
“Did I do that right?”
John answered by pulling the younger man up, where he could plunder the smiling mouth. Growling as hand reached for the others belt buckle. He wasn’t sure if he could take this.
He hadn’t touched his wife in years, and had hardly allowed himself to dally with a butler or other house staff. Besides that, Wonka had enchanted him from the beginning, had broken his control while teaching him to strengthen it. That thought hit him like a cold shower just as he had dragged Wonka under him, his pants already half way down his hips.
It was a replay from the earlier moment, both were frozen but there was an added tension. At least for John, Wonka seemed to be begging silently with his eyes.
“Do you want this?” He waited and was shocked as the man tipped his head back revealing the pale throat and laughed a sweet pure laugh. He hadn’t been expecting that, but should have known it was too late to ask, he hadn’t controlled himself enough to ask before.
“If you don’t hurry up and do something not only will I send you up the fudge tube, blow you up like a blue berry but also throw you back in with the squirrels.” John smiled softly, he had heard the quiver in Wonka’s voice, the unsure confusion. The young man didn’t know what was going to happen, what he needed, but he knew he needed something, that he didn’t care what happened. John would teach him exactly what. The rest of the pants came off, and long pale limbs stretched out around him as he threw his own shirt off.
He gazed down at the ivory expanse, his hands already mapping the pure body, playing with the puckered nipples, almost as dark as chocolate against the smooth expanse. He nipped his way up the thighs, suckling, flushing the pure to a tainted red.
He knew he was treading a thin line. Tonight could bring a thousand possibilities of what the morning would bring, so he claimed as much as his control would permit, marking them man writhing beneath him, until his tongue flicked delicately across the very tip of the other man’s length. Before sucking him down hard and fast. The taste, the feel of the hot, hard heat in his mouth, the silk against his tongue was overwhelming and he almost lost control to push the young man back and take him without warning. Instead he looked up across the pale chest to watching the red lips fall open in a long drawn out moan, the violet eyes shut but fluttering madly.
Hips bucked and he almost gagged but he let the long nimble fingers caught in his hair directing him as he opened his throat for the other man. He let himself be claimed and used and hoped in the morning he wouldn’t be thrown away.
The noises the other made went straight to his cock, he needed to hear more as he ground himself against the silk sheets, the friction cool, but too soft. Humming, he knelt on his elbow and felt between the others legs, fingers fondling the heavy sack, his other hand creeping into his pants and pumping hard, desperate against his own flesh. There was no scream, no whimper, no long moan, not even his name was whispered as Wonka came with a short choke and pure silence that sent John over the edge.
Looking up he saw the small smile as Wonka closed his eyes, the pale hand lifting from his hair to brush against his cheeks, as if congratulating him for passing another lesson. He supposed he had. He smiled back as the violet eyes closed, fingers still stroking his cheek.
In the silence he noticed it, Wonka was right, it tingled.
- The End -
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Lessons